TAPESTRY
A study of textiles is often subdivided into tapestry, carpet-weaving,
mechanical weaving of fabrics of a lighter weight, and embroidery.
These headings are useful to observe in our researches in the mediæval
processes connected with the loom and the needle.
Tapestry, as we popularly think of it, in great rectangular
wall-hangings with rather florid figures from Scriptural scenes,
commonly dates from the sixteenth century or later, so that it is
out of our scope to study its manufacture on an extensive scale.
But there are earlier tapestries, much more restrained in design,
and more interesting and frequently more beautiful. Of these earlier
works there is less profusion, for the examples are rare and precious,
and seldom come into the market nowadays. The later looms were of
course more prolific as the technical facilities increased. But
a study of the craft as it began gives one all that is necessary
for a proper appreciation of the art of tapestry weaving.
The earliest European work with which we have to concern ourselves
is the Bayeux tapestry. Although this is really needlework, it
is usually treated as tapestry, and there seems to be no special
reason for departing from the custom. Some authorities state that
the Bayeux tapestry was made by the Empress Matilda, daughter of
Henry I., while others consider it the achievement of Queen Matilda,
the wife of William the Conqueror. She is recorded to have sat
quietly awaiting her lord's coming while she embroidered this quaint
souvenir of his prowess in conquest. A veritable mediæval Penelope,
it is claimed that she directed her ladies in this work, which is
thoroughly Saxon in feeling and costuming. It is undoubtedly the most
interesting remaining piece of needlework of the eleventh century,
and it would be delightful if one could believe the legend of its
construction. Its attribution to Queen Matilda is very generally
doubted by those who have devoted much thought to the subject. Mr.
Frank Rede Fowke gives it as his opinion, based on a number of
arguments too long to quote in this place, that the tapestry was
not made by Queen Matilda, but was ordered by Bishop Odo as an
ornament for the nave of Bayeux Cathedral, and was executed by
Norman craftsmen in that city. Dr. Rock also favours the theory
that it was worked by order of Bishop Odo. Odo was a brother of
William the Conqueror and might easily have been interested in
preserving so important a record of the Battle of Hastings. Dr.
Rock states that the tradition that Queen Matilda executed the
tapestry did not arise at all until 1730.
The work is on linen, executed in worsteds. Fowke gives the length
as two hundred and thirty feet, while it is only nineteen inches
wide,--a long narrow strip of embroidery, in many colours on a cream
white ground. In all, there are six hundred and twenty-three figures,
besides two hundred horses and dogs, five hundred and five animals,
thirty-seven buildings, forty-one ships, forty-nine trees, making in
all the astonishing number of one thousand five hundred and twelve
objects!
The colours are in varying shades of blue, green, red and yellow
worsted. The colours are used as a child employs crayons; just as
they come to hand. When a needleful of one thread was used up,
the next was taken, apparently quite irrespective of the colour or
shade. Thus, a green horse will be seen standing on red legs, and
a red horse will sport a blue stocking! Mr. J. L. Hayes believes
that these varicoloured animals are planned purposely: that two
legs of a green horse are rendered in red on the further side, to
indicate perspective, the same principle accounting for two blue
legs on a yellow horse!
[Illustration: DETAIL, BAYEUX TAPESTRY]
The buildings are drawn in a very primitive way, without consideration
for size or proportion. The solid part of the embroidery is couched
on, while much of the work is only rendered in outline. But the
spirited little figures are full of action, and suggest those in
the celebrated Utrecht Psalter. Sometimes one figure will be as
high as the whole width of the material, while again, the people
will be tiny. In the scene representing the burial of Edward the
Confessor, in Westminster Abbey, the roof of the church is several
inches lower than the bier which is borne on the shoulders of men
nearly as tall as the tower!
The naïve treatment of details is delicious. Harold, when about
to embark, steps with bare legs into the tide: the water is laid
out in the form of a hill of waves, in order to indicate that it
gets deeper later on. It might serve as an illustration of the Red
Sea humping up for the benefit of the Israelites! The curious little
stunted figure with a bald head, in the group of the conference of
messengers, would appear to be an abortive attempt to portray a
person at some distance--he is drawn much smaller than the others
to suggest that he is quite out of hearing! This seems to have
been the only attempt at rendering the sense of perspective. Then
comes a mysterious little lady in a kind of shrine, to whom a clerk
is making curious advances; to the casual observer it would appear
that the gentleman is patting her on the cheek, but we are informed
by Thierry that this represents an embroideress, and that the clerk
is in the act of ordering the Bayeux Tapestry itself! Conjecture
is swamped concerning the real intention of this group, and no
certain diagnosis has ever been pronounced! The Countess of Wilton
sees in this group "a female in a sort of porch, with a clergyman
in the act of pronouncing a benediction upon her!" Every one to
his taste.
A little farther on there is another unexplained figure: that of
a man with his feet crossed, swinging joyously on a rope from the
top of a tower.
Soon after the Crowning of Harold, may be seen a crowd of people
gazing at an astronomic phenomenon which has been described by an
old chronicler as a "hairy star." It is recorded as "a blazing
starre" such as "never appears but as a prognostic of afterclaps,"
and again, as "dreadful to be seen, with bloudie haires, and all
over rough and shagged at the top." Another author complacently
explains that comets "were made to the end that the ethereal regions
might not be more void of monsters than the ocean is of whales and
other great thieving fish!" A very literal interpretation of this
"hairy star" has been here embroidered, carefully fitted out with
cog-wheels and all the paraphernalia of a conventional mediæval
comet.
In the scenes dealing with the preparation of the army and the
arrangement of their food, there occurs the lassooing of an ox; the
amount of action concentrated in this group is really wonderful.
The ox, springing clear of the ground, with all his legs gathered
up under him, turns his horned head, which is set on an unduly
long neck, for the purpose of inspecting his pursuers. No better
origin for the ancient tradition of the cow who jumped over the
moon could be adduced. And what shall we say of the acrobatic antics
of Leofwine and Gyrth when meeting their deaths in battle? These
warriors are turning elaborate handsprings in their last moments,
while horses are represented as performing such somersaults that
they are practically inverted. In the border of this part of the
tapestry, soldiers are seen stripping off the coats of mail from
the dead warriors on the battle-field; this they do by turning the
tunic inside out and pulling it off at the head, and the resulting
attitudes of the victims are quaint and realistic in the extreme!
The border has been appropriately described as "a layer of dead men."
In the tenth and eleventh centuries one of the regular petitions in
the Litany was "From the fury of the Normans Good Lord Deliver us."
The Bayeux Tapestry was designated, in 1746, as "the noblest monument
in the world relating to our old English History." It has passed
through most trying vicissitudes, having been used in war time as a
canvas covering to a transport wagon, among other experiences. For
centuries this precious treasure was neglected and not understood. In
his "Tour" M. Ducarel states: "The priests... to whom we addressed
ourselves for a sight of this remarkable piece of antiquity, knew
nothing of it; the circumstance only of its being annually hung up
in their church led them to understand what we wanted, no person
then knowing that the object of our inquiries any ways related to
the Conqueror." This was in the nineteenth century.
Anglo-Saxon women spent much of their time in embroidering. Edith,
Queen of Edward the Confessor, was quite noted for her needlework,
which was sometimes used to decorate the state robes of the king.
Formerly there existed at Ely Cathedral a work very like the Bayeux
Tapestry, recording the deeds of the heroic Brihtnoth, the East
Saxon, who was slain in 991, fighting the Danish forces. His wife
rendered his history in needlework, and presented it to Ely.
Unhappily there are no remains of this interesting monument now
existing. The nearest thing to the Bayeux Tapestry in general
texture and style is perhaps a twelfth century work in the Cathedral
at Gerona, a little over four yards square, which is worked in
crewels on linen, and is ornamented with scenes of an Oriental and
primitive character, taken mainly from the story of Genesis. These
tapestries come under the head of needlework. The tapestries made
on looms proceed upon a different principle, and are woven instead
of embroidered.
Two kinds of looms were used under varying conditions in different
places; high warp looms, or _Haute Lisse_, and low warp looms,
known as _Basse Lisse_.
The general method of making tapestries on a high warp loom has been
much the same for many centuries. The warp is stretched vertically
in two sets, every other thread being first forward and then back in
the setting. M. Lacordaire, late Director of the Gobelins, writes
as follows: "The workman takes a spindle filled with worsted or
silk... he stops off the weft thread and fastens it to the warp,
to the left of the space to be occupied by the colour he has in
hand; then, by passing his left hand between the back and the front
threads, he separates those that are to be covered with colours;
with his right hand, having passed it through the same threads,
he reaches to the left side, for the spindle which he brings back
to the right; his left hand, then, seizing hold of the warp, brings
the back threads to the front, while the right hand thrusts the
spindle back to the point whence it started." When a new colour
is to be introduced, the artist takes a new shuttle. He fastens
his thread on the wrong side of the tapestry (the side on which
he works) and repeats the process just described on the strings
stretched up and down before him, like harp strings; the work is
commenced at the lower part, and worked upwards, so that, when
this strictly "hand weaving" is accomplished, it may be crowded
down into place by means of a kind of ivory comb, so adjusted that
the teeth fit between the warp threads. In tapestry weaving, the
warp could be of any inferior but strong thread, for, by the nature
of the work, only the woof was visible, the warp being quite hidden
and incorporated into the texture under the close lying stitches
which met and dove-tailed over it.
The worker on a low loom does not see the right side of the work
at all, unless he lifts the loom, which is a difficult undertaking.
On a high loom, it is only necessary for the worker to go around
to the front in order to see exactly what he is doing. The design
is put below the work, however, in a low loom, and the work is
thus practically traced as the tapestry proceeds.
On account of the limitations of the human arm in reaching, the
low warp tapestry requires more seams than does that made on the
"haute lisse" loom, the pieces being individually smaller. One
whole division of the workmen in tapestry establishments used to be
known as the "fine drawers," whose whole duty was to join the
different pieces together, and also to repair worn tapestries,
inserting new stitches for restorations. Tapestry repairing was
a necessary craft; at Rheims some tapestries were restored by
Jacquemire de Bergeres; these hangings had been "much damaged by
dogs, rats, mice, and other beasts." It is not stated where they
had been hung!
High warp looms have been known in Europe certainly since the ninth
century. There is an order extant, from the Bishop of Auxerre,
who died in 840, for some "carpets for his church." In 890 the
monks of Saumur were manufacturing tapestries. Beautiful textiles
had been used to ornament the Church of St. Denis as early as 630,
but there is no proof that these were actually tapestries. There
is a legend that in 732 a tapestry establishment existed in the
district between Tours and Poitiers. At Beauvais, too, the weavers
of arras were settled at the time of the Norman ravages.
King Dagobert was a mediæval patron of arts in France. He had the
walls of St. Denis (which he built) hung with rich tapestries set
with pearls and wrought with gold. At the monastery of St. Florent,
at Saumur in 985, the monks wove tapestries, using floral and animal
forms in their designs. At Poitiers there was quite a flourishing
factory as early as 1025. Tapestry was probably first made in France,
to any considerable extent, then, in the ninth century. The historian
of the monastery of Saumur tells us an interesting incident in
connection with the works there. The Abbot of St. Florent had placed
a magnificent order for "curtains, canopies, hangings, bench covers,
and other ornaments,... and he caused to be, made two pieces of tapestry
of large size and admirable quality, representing elephants." While
these were about to be commenced, the aforesaid abbot was called
away on a journey. The ecclesiastic who remained issued a command
that the tapestries should be made with a woof different from that
which they habitually used. "Well," said they, "in the absence of
the good abbot we will not discontinue our employment; but as you
thwart us, we shall make quite a different kind of fabric." So they
deliberately set to work to make square carpets with silver lions on
a red ground, with a red and white border of various animals! Abbot
William was fortunately pleased with the result, and used lions
interchangeably with elephants thereafter in his decorations.
At the ninth century tapestry manufactory in Poitiers, an amusing
correspondence took place between the Count of Poitou and an Italian
bishop, in 1025. Poitou was at that time noted for its fine breed
of mules. The Italian bishop wrote to ask the count to send him
one mule and one tapestry,--as he expressed it, "both equally
marvellous." The count replied with spirit: "I cannot send you
what you ask, because for a mule to merit the epithet _marvellous_,
he would have to have horns, or three tails, or five legs, and
this I should not be able to find. I shall have to content myself
with sending you the best that I can procure!"
In 992 the Abbey of Croyland, in England, owned "two large foot
cloths woven with lions, to be laid before the high altar on great
festivals, and two shorter ones trailed all over with flowers,
for the feast days of the Apostles."
Under Church auspices in the twelfth century, the tapestry industry
rose to its most splendid perfection. When the secular looms were
started, the original beauty of the work was retained for a considerable
time; in the tenth century German craftsmen worked as individuals,
independently of Guilds or organizations. In the thirteenth century
the work was in a flourishing condition in France, where both looms
were in use. The upright loom is still used at the Gobelin factory.
As an adjunct to the stained glass windows in churches, there never
was a texture more harmonious than good mediæval tapestry. In 1260
the best tapestries in France were made by the Church exclusively;
in 1461 King René of Anjou bequeathed a magnificent tapestry in
twenty-seven subjects representing the Apocalypse, to "the church
of Monsieur St. Maurice," at Angers.
Although tapestry was made in larger quantities during the Renaissance,
the mediæval designs are better adapted to the material.
The royal chambers of the Kings of England were hung with tapestry,
and it was the designated duty of the Chamberlain to see to such
adornment. In 1294 there is mention of a special artist in tapestry,
who lived near Winchester; his name was Sewald, and he was further
known as "le tapenyr," which, according to M. G. Thomson, signifies
tapestrier.
One is led to believe that tapestries were used as church adornments
before they were introduced into dwellings; for it was said, when
Queen Eleanor of Castile had her bedroom hung with tapestries, that
"it was like a church." At Westminster, a writer of 1631 alludes
to the "cloths of Arras which adorn the choir."
Sets of tapestries to hang entire apartments were known as "Hallings."
Among the tapestries which belonged to Charles V. was one "worked
with towers, fallow bucks and does, to put over the King's boat."
Among early recorded tapestries are those mentioned in the inventory
of Philip the Bold, in 1404, while that of Philip the Good tells of
his specimens, in 1420. Nothing can well be imagined more charming
than the description of a tapestried chamber in 1418; the room
being finished in white was decorated with paroquets and damsels
playing harps. This work was accomplished for the Duchess of Bavaria
by the tapestry maker, Jean of Florence.
Flanders tapestry was famous in the twelfth and fourteenth centuries.
Arras particularly was the town celebrated for the beauty of its
work. This famous manufactory was founded prior to 1350, as there
is mention of work of that period. Before the town became known as
Arras, while it still retained its original name, Nomenticum, the
weavers were famous who worked there. In 282 A. D. the woven cloaks
of Nomenticum were spoken of by Flavius Vopiscus.
The earliest record of genuine Arras tapestry occurs in an order
from the Countess of Artois in 1313, when she directs her receiver
"de faire faire six tapis à Arras." Among the craftsmen at Arras
in 1389 was a Saracen, named Jehan de Croisètes, and in 1378 there
was a worker by the name of Huwart Wallois. Several of its workmen
emigrated to Lille, in the fifteenth century, among them one Simon
Lamoury and another, Jehan de Rausart. In 1419 the Council Chamber
of Ypres was ornamented with splendid tapestries by François de
Wechter, who designed them, and had them executed by Arras workmen.
The Van Eycks and Memlinc also designed tapestries, and there is no
doubt that the art would have continued to show a more consistent
regard for the demands of the material if Raphael had never executed
his brilliant cartoons. The effort to be Raphaelesque ruined the
effect of many a noble piece of technique, after that.
In 1302 a body of ten craftsmen formed a Corporation in Paris.
The names of several workmen at Lille have been handed down to
us. In 1318 Jehan Orghet is recorded, and in 1368, Willaume, a
high-warp worker. Penalties for false work were extreme. One of
the best known workers in France was Bataille, who was closely
followed by one Dourdain.
[Illustration: FLEMISH TAPESTRY, "THE PRODIGAL SON"]
A famous Arras tapestry was made in 1386 by a weaver of the name
of Michel Bernard. It measured over two hundred and eighty-five
square yards, and represented the battle of Roosebecke. At this
time a tapestry worker lived, named Jehanne Aghehe, one of the
first attested women's names in connection with this art. In the
Treasury of the church of Douai there is mention of three cushions
made of high loom tapestry presented in 1386 by "la demoiselle
Englise." It is not known who this young lady may have been. France
and Flanders made the most desirable tapestries in the fourteenth
century. In Italy the art had little vogue until the fifteenth.
Very little tapestry was made in Spain in the Middle Ages,--the
earliest well known maker was named Gutierrez, in the time of Philip
IV. The picture by Velasquez, known as "The Weavers," represents
the interior of his manufactory.
A table cloth in mediæval times was called a "carpett:" these were
often very ornate, and it is useful to know that their use was not
for floor covering, for the inventories often mention "carpetts"
worked with pearls and silver tissue, which would have been singularly
inappropriate. The Arabs introduced the art of carpet weaving into
Spain. An Oriental, Edrisi, writing in the twelfth century, says
that such carpets were made at that time in Alicante, as could not
be produced elsewhere, owing to certain qualities in both air and
water which greatly benefited the wool used in their manufacture.
In the Travels of Jean Lagrange, the author says that all carpets
of Smyrna and Caramania are woven by women. As soon as a girl can
hold a shuttle, they stretch cords between two trees, to make a
warp, and then they give her all colours of wools, and leave her
to her own devices. They tell her, "It is for you to make your own
dowry." Then, according to the inborn art instinct of the child, she
begins her carpet. Naturally, traditions and association with others
engaged in the same pursuit assist in the scheme and arrangement;
usually the carpet is not finished until she is old enough to marry.
"Then," continues Lagrange, "two masters, two purchasers, present
themselves; the one carries off a carpet, and the other a wife."
Edward II.. of England owned a tapestry probably of English make,
described as "a green hanging of wool wove with figures of Kings
and Earls upon it." There was a roistering Britisher called John le
Tappistere, who was complained of by certain people near Oxford, as
having seized Master John of Shoreditch, and assaulted and imprisoned
him, confiscating his goods and charging him fifty pounds for ransom.
It is not stated what the gentleman from Shoreditch had done thus
to bring down upon him the wrath of John the weaver!
English weavers had rather the reputation of being fighters: in
1340 one George le Tapicier murdered John le Dextre of Leicester;
while Giles de la Hyde also slew Thomas Tapicier in 1385. Possibly
these rows occurred on account of a practical infringement upon
the manufacturing rights of others as set down in the rules of the
Company. There was a woman in Finch Lane who produced tapestry,
with a cotton back, "after the manner of the works of Arras:" this
was considered a dishonest business, and the work was ordered to
be burnt.
Roger van der Weyden designed a set of tapestries representing
the History of Herkinbald, the stern uncle who, with his own hand,
beheaded his nephew for wronging a young woman. Upon his death-bed,
Herkinbald refused to confess this act as a sin, claiming the murder
to have been justifiable and a positive virtue. Apparently the
Higher Powers were on his side, too, for, when the priest refused
the Eucharist to the impertinent Herkinbald, it is related that
the Host descended by a miracle and entered the lips of the dying
man. A dramatic story, of which van der Weyden made the most, in
designing his wonderfully decorative tapestries. The originals
were lost, but similar copies remain.
As early as 1441 tapestries were executed in Oudenardes; usually
these were composed of green foliage, and known as "verdures." In
time the names "verdure" and "Oudenarde" became interchangeably
associated with this class of tapestry. They represented woodland
and hunting scenes, and were also called "Tapestry verde," and
are alluded to by Chaucer.
Curious symbolic subjects were often used: for instance, for a
set of hangings for a banquet hall, what could be more whimsically
appropriate than the representation of "Dinner," giving a feast to
"Good Company," while "Banquet" and "Maladies" attack the guests!
This scene is followed by the arrest of "Souper" and "Banquet" by
"Experience," who condemns them both to die for their cruel treatment
of the Feasters!
There is an old poem written by a monk of Chester, named Bradshaw,
in which a large hall decorated with tapestries is described as
follows:
"All herbs and flowers, fair and sweet,
Were strawed in halls, and layd under their feet;
Cloths of gold, and arras were hanged on the wall,
Depainted with pictures and stories manifold
Well wrought and craftely."
A set of tapestries was made by some of the monks of Troyes, who
worked upon the high loom, displaying scenes from the Life of the
Magdalen. This task was evidently not devoid of the lighter elements,
for in the bill, the good brothers made charge for such wine as
they drank "when they consulted together in regard to the life
of the Saint in question!"
Among the most interesting tapestries are those representing scenes
from the Wars of Troy, in South Kensington. They are crowded with
detail, and in this respect exhibit most satisfactorily the beauties
of the craft, which is enhanced by small intricacies, and rendered
less impressive when treated in broad masses of unrelieved woven
colour. Another magnificent set, bearing similar characteristics,
is the History of Clovis at Rheims.
There is a fascinating set of English tapestries representing the
Seasons, at Hatfield: these were probably woven at Barcheston.
The detail of minute animal and vegetable forms--the flora and
fauna, as it were in worsted--are unique for their conscientious
finish. They almost amount to catalogues of plants and beasts.
The one which displays Summer is a herbal and a Noah's Ark turned
loose about a full-sized Classical Deity, who presides in the centre
of the composition.
Among English makers of tapestries was a workman named John Bakes,
who was paid the magnificent sum of twelve pence a day, while in an
entry in another document he is said to have received only fourpence
daily.
The Hunting Tapestries belonging to the Duke of Devonshire are
as perfect specimens as any that exist of the best period of the
art. They are represented in colour in W. G. Thomson's admirable
work on Tapestries, and are thus available to most readers in some
public collection.
Another splendidly decorative specimen is at Hampton Court, being
a series of the Seven Deadly Sins. They measure about twenty-five
by thirteen feet each, and are worked in heavy wools and silks.
As technical facility developed, certain weaknesses began to show
themselves. Tapestry weavers had their favourite figures, which,
to save themselves trouble, they would often substitute for others
in the original design.
Arras tapestries were no longer made in the sixteenth
century, and the best work of that time was accomplished in the
Netherlands. About 1540 Brussels probably stood at the head of the
list of cities famous for the production of these costly textiles.
The Raphael tapestries were made there, by Peter van Aelst, under
the order of Pope Leo X. They were executed in the space of four
years, being finished in 1519, only a year before Raphael's death.
In the sixteenth century the Brussels workers began to make certain
"short cuts" not quite legitimate in an art of the highest standing,
such as touching up the faces with liquid dyes, and using the same
to enhance the effect after the work was finished. A law was passed
that this must not be done on any tapestry worth more than twelve
pence a yard. In spite of this trickery, the Netherlandish tapestries
led all others in popularity in that century.
It was almost invariable, especially in Flemish work, to treat
Scriptural subjects as dressed in the costume of the period in
which the tapestry happened to be made. When one sees the Prodigal
Son attired in a delightful Flemish costume of a well-appointed
dandy, and Adam presented to God the Father, both being clothed in
Netherlandish garments suitable for Burgomasters of the sixteenth
century, then we can believe that the following description, quoted
by the Countess of Wilton, is hardly overdrawn. "In a corner of
the apartment stood a bed, the tapestry of which was enwrought
with gaudy colours, representing Adam and Eve in the Garden
of Eden.... Adam was presenting our first mother with a large yellow
apple gathered from a tree which scarcely reached his knee....
To the left of Eve appeared a church, and a dark robed gentleman
holding something in his hand which looked like a pin cushion, but
doubtless was intended for a book; he seemed pointing to the holy
edifice, as if reminding them that they were not yet married! On
the ground lay the rib, out of which Eve, who stood a head higher
than Adam, had been formed: both of them were very respectably
clothed in the ancient Saxon costume; even the angel wore breeches,
which, being blue, contrasted well with his flaming red wings."
In France, the leading tapestry works were at Tours in the early
sixteenth century. A Flemish weaver, Jean Duval, started the work
there in 1540. Until 1552 he and his three sons laboured together
with great results, and they left a large number of craftsmen to
follow in their footsteps.
In Italy the art had almost died out in the early sixteenth century,
but revived in full and florid force under the Raphaelesque influence.
King René of Anjou collected tapestries so assiduously that the
care and repairing of them occupied the whole time of a staff of
workers, who were employed steadily, living in the palace, and
sleeping at night in the various apartments in which the hangings
were especially costly.
Queen Jeanne, the mother of Henri IV., was a skilled
worker in tapestry. To quote Miss Freer in the Life of Jeanne d'Albret,
"During the hours which the queen allowed herself for relaxation,
she worked tapestry and discoursed with some one of the learned men
whom she protected." This queen was of an active mental calibre and
one to whom physical repose was most repugnant. She was a regular
and pious attendant at church, but sitting still was torture to
her, and listening to the droning sermons put her to sleep. So,
with a courage to be admired, Jeanne "demanded permission from
the Synod to work tapestry during the sermon. This request was
granted; from thenceforth Queen Jeanne, bending decorously over
her tapestry frame, and busy with her needle, gave due attention."
The Chateau of Blois, during the reign of Louis XII. and Ann of
Brittany, is described as being regally appointed with tapestries:
"Those which were hung in the apartments of the king and queen,"
says the chronicler, "were all full of gold; and the tapestries
and embroideries of cloth of gold and of silk had others beneath
them ornamented with personages and histories as those were above.
Indeed, there was so great a number of rich tapestries, velvet
carpets, and bed coverings, of gold and silk, that there was not
a chamber, hall, or wardrobe, that was not full."
In an inventory of the Princess of Burgundy there occurs this curious
description of a tapestry: "The three tapestries of the Church
Militant, wrought in gold, whereon may be seen represented God Almighty
seated in majesty, and around him many cardinals, and below him many
princes who present to him a church."
Household luxury in England is indicated by a quaint writer in 1586:
"In noblemen's houses," he says, "it is not rare to see abundance of
arras, rich hangings, of tapestrie... Turkie wood, pewter, brasse,
and fine linen.... In times past the costly furniture stayed there,
whereas now it is discarded yet lower, even unto the inferior
artificers, and many farmers... have for the most part learned to
garnish their beds with tapestries and hangings, and their tables
with carpetts and fine napery."
Henry VIII. was devoted to tapestry collecting, also. An agent
who was buying for him in the Netherlands in 1538, wrote to the
king: "I have made a stay in my hands of two hundred ells of goodly
tapestry; there hath not been brought this twenty year eny so good
for the price." Henry VIII. had in his large collection many subjects,
among them such characteristic pieces as: "ten peeces of the rich
story of King David" (in which Bathsheba doubtless played an important
part), "seven peeces of the Stories of Ladies," "A peece with a man
and woman and a flagon," "A peece of verdure... having poppinjays
at the nether corners," "One peece of Susannah," "Six fine new
tapestries of the History of Helena and Paris."
A set of six "verdure" tapestries was owned by Cardinal Wolsey,
which "served for the hanging of Durham Hall of inferior days."
The hangings in a hall in Chester are described as depicting "Adam,
Noe, and his Shyppe." In 1563 a monk of Canterbury was mentioned as
a tapestry weaver. At York, Norwich, and other cities, were also to
be found "Arras Workers" during the sixteenth century.
There was an amusing law suit in 1598, which was brought by a gentleman,
Charles Lister, against one Mrs. Bridges, for accepting from him, on
the understanding of an engagement in marriage, a suite of tapestries
for her apartment. He sued for the return of his gifts!
Among the State Papers of James I., there is a letter in which
the King remarks "Sir Francis Crane desires to know if my baby
will have him to-hasten the making of that suite of tapestry that
he commanded him."
In Florence, the art flourished under the Medici. In 1546 a regular
Academy of instruction in tapestry weaving was set up, under the
direction of Flemish masters. All the leading artists of the Golden
Age furnished designs which, though frequently inappropriate for
being rendered in textile, were fine pictures, at any rate. In
Venice, too, there were work shops, but the influence of Italy was
Flemish in every case so far as technical instruction was concerned.
The most celebrated artists of the Renaissance made cartoons: Raphael,
Giulio Romano, Jouvenet, Le Brun, and numerous others, in various
countries.
[Illustration: TAPESTRY, REPRESENTING PARIS IN THE 15TH CENTURY]
The Gobelins work in Paris was inaugurated in the fifteenth century
under Jean Gobelins, a native of Rheims. His son, Philibert, and
later, many descendants persevered steadily at the work; the art
prospered under Francis I., the whole force of tapestry weavers being
brought together at Fontainebleau, and under Henry II., the direction
of the whole was given to the celebrated artist Philibert Delorme. In
1630 the Gobelins was fully established as a larger plant, and has
never made another move. The work has increased ever since those days,
on much the same general lines. Celebrated French artists have
designed tapestries: Watteau, Boucher, and others were interpreted
by the brilliant manager whose signature appears on the works,
Cozette, who was manager from 1736 until 1792. With this technical
perfection came the death of the art of tapestry: the pictures
might as well have been painted on canvas, and all feeling for the
material was lost, so that the naïve charm of the original workers
ceased to be a part of the production.
Among European collections now visible, the best is in Madrid,
where over six hundred tapestries may be seen, chiefly Flemish,
of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The collection at the
Pitti Palace in Florence comprises six hundred, while in the Vatican
are preserved the original Raphael tapestries. South Kensington
Museum, too, is rich in interesting examples of various schools.
It is a very helpful collection to students, especially, although
not so large as some others.
In 1663, "two well intended statutes" were introduced dealing with
curiously opposite matters: one was to encourage linen and tapestry
manufacture in England, and the other was "for regulating the packing
of herrings!"
The famous English Mortlake tapestry manufactory was not established
until the seventeenth century, and that is rather late for us. The
progress of craftsmanship has been steady, especially at the Gobelins
in France. Many other centres of industry developed, however, in
various countries. The study of modern tapestry is a branch by
itself with which we are unable to concern ourselves now.